Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Are we walking together, or would you prefer if I dramatically left first and stormed in there so people will think you really put me in my place? Should I try to see if I can make a few tears show up, maybe?”
“Out,” I gritted.
She did that magical thing where she rolled her eyes without rolling them again, turned, and headed for the door. I knew I had to be imagining it, but it almost looked like she stuck her perfect, round, tight ass out a little as she pushed through the doorway. My eyes lingered far too long on it, then I stood and looked down, growling at the stupidly large, angry erection I had.
This was fucking ridiculous. Darcy McClain needed to go, and I couldn’t get rid of her soon enough. The problem was I’d just provided her a few years’ worth of motivation to be the best damn employee possible, because she knew I wanted her gone and she was going to do her damndest not to give me a reason.
DARCY
ONE DAY SINCE THE DOMINOCOLYPSE, MR. LAMEWOOD.
I chewed the tip of my pencil, glaring toward his office. Some cute young guy in overalls had been setting up framing around Jasmine’s former office all morning. As predicted, Dominic’s ego was too large to be contained in any normal sized room. He was planning on making the office bigger, which also meant Stinky Steve’s workspace had been crammed in directly across from my desk.
Now, if I made the mistake of leaning to either side of my monitor, I saw Steve smiling back at me from mere inches away. And no amount of leaning or careful planning could save me from the ever-present aroma of old socks and garlic breath he constantly radiated. The smell wasn’t the worst part about Steve. He also had a bad habit of being a total creep, and it was well documented. That was why his work station had wound up in a corner. Jasmine was a great editor and a kind boss, but she’d been far too willing to believe his excuses about why people were “exaggerating” about him.
In her mind, if he kept doing his work well, she could just put him in the corner and look the other way.
Steve cleared his throat, leaning his head to the side so I could see him from the nose up. “Looks like we’re going to be working pretty close together, huh? No playing footsie with me.”
I cringed, especially when I felt something touch my ankle. It was all I could do not to scream out loud like a hairy spider was crawling up my leg. I put my palms on my desk, took a deep breath, and then spoke. “Never touch me again, Steve.”
“Sheesh. Is it that time of the month?”
“One of us is going to be bleeding if you keep talking,” I said.
Steve seemed to get the hint and his greasy head slipped back behind the monitor.
I rubbed my eyes, wondering if this was an intentional move from Dominic. He wanted to fire me. That much was clear. It didn’t take a detective to guess I wouldn’t want Steve’s desk practically on top of mine. Was he really petty enough to do this on purpose in hopes that I’d quit? Well, the big bastard was going to be very sad if he thought it’d be so easy to chase me off.
I’d barely been at work, but I already felt like I needed a break. I got up and headed across the office to the coffee machine. It was the unofficial “stretch your leg” spot, even if you weren’t making coffee. Seeing someone lingering at the coffee machine was also a clear signal that they were wanting to gossip.
Elizabeth and Farhad spotted me almost instantly. They got up from their desks and came to crowd in beside me.
“Oh my God,” Elizabeth whispered. “It feels like we’re being oppressed by the sexiest dictator in history. Should I try to think of a good nickname for him? Big Daddy? Mr. Cockwood?”
“Probably not wise to give our boss nicknames, Elizabeth,” I said. I felt tired already. Honestly, I just wanted to do my work. I didn’t want to play games with this guy.
Farhad folded his arms. “He moved me off fashion and trends. What the fuck is that? The guy doesn’t even know us and he thinks he should start reassigning us to different articles?”
“What?” I asked. “You’re easily the fashion and trends guy. No offense,” I added.
Farhad frowned. “Why would that offend me?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Because there’s a connotation to being that guy. But you’re not him. No offense.”
“Would you two idiots stop trying not to offend me?” he said. “I just want to write what I know. What the hell do I know about politics?”
“Politics?” I asked. “We don’t have a politics article.”